


Not an Addict

by hato



Series: Hustle [2]
Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Smoking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hato/pseuds/hato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Esca came into his life, Marcus would never have blinked at a missing 20 quid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not an Addict

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Characters belong to Rosemary Sutcliffe. OCs are my fault.  
>  **Warnings:** Swearing, smoking addiction, etc.  
>  **A/N:** Again, posted on eljay nearly two years ago. A continuation of the Hustle AU that caught my fancy at the time.  
>  **Inspired by:** _Not an Addict_ by K's Choice.

" Her Majesty's Royal Cock Hunter."  
  
" Not funny," Marcus reprimands the man on the other end of the line. The mobile is cool against his palm, hot against his ear. He blinks at the entries on the screen. Again.  
  
 _Monday. 05:00. £ 5,000.00._  
 _Monday. 22:42. £4,980.00._  
 _Tuesday. 08:17. £5,000.00._  
  
Damn. He's not misreading it. Marcus swallows and holds the phone tighter. Wonders how to go about it. He could be overreacting. " I checked the accounts today." Direct is always best.  
  
A sigh. Esca's voice, excuse given over the pounding Barry Manilow to whoever he's with. Marcus is pretty sure it's Esa's friend, Rosemary. Today is Sunday. On Sundays, her mum cooks. A few moments, hollow sounds and _Mandy_ is closed off by a door. " And?" He's not going to make it easy.  
  
Double check, thick finger tracing the script across the laptop screen. " Twenty pounds was withdrawn from a cashpoint, late Monday night. And replaced the next morning." Marcus breathes heavily, nostrils flaring. He doesn't want to have to ask. Hesitates and grinds his teeth. Wishes for some gum.  
  
" I thought you wanted me to use that money?" Stroppy. Irritated and most likely offended by the call. Because Esca hates it when Marcus calls him for what the younger man considers business. Anything concerning Esca's finances- or lack thereof- is business. " Now you're going to have a priss fit over a few quid? That I put back?!"  
  
Marcus knows he could be overreacting. It's £20 difference. Petrol in his bike. Grub. A pint. Fill out his water bill, or rent. But. Esca never. NEVER. EVER. Uses the money in the account Marcus set up for him nearly six years ago. Esca would rather walk, starve, dehydrate, and go homeless than take money from Marcus. " No, Esca. I'm upset because-"  
  
Except that once.  
  
And Marcus had discovered- nearly a month later during their usual second Thursday arrangement- that the £22.98 debited on the card at a chemist, missing and replaced within a week's time, had paid for first aid supplies. For stitches. Because Esca had been stabbed in a Brighton pub. Over a fucking girl.  
  
" - and you didn't deem it important enough to tell me." Marcus grips the mobile a bit too tightly. Silence on the other side. Tension. " Esca." Beloved name. Hard as nails now. Sharp and brittle and Marcus jerks his gaze away from the screen to stare out the dark window. His own muted reflection stares back.  
  
Proud, stubborn bastard, that Esca. No wonder Marcus loves him. Despite the never ending frustration.  
  
A mumbled reply.  
  
It surprises Marcus. In fact, he doesn't understand what was just said it was so unexpected and quiet and blended into the light static of the open line. " What?"  
  
There's a pause filled with silent annoyance, then, " B&H."  
  
Marcus' reflection frowns. " You mean... ?"  
  
He most certainly hears the disgruntled and defeated sigh now. " Yes, Marcus. Benson & Hedges Silver. Cigarettes. A fucking pack of fags. Are you happy?"  
  
It's the truth. Or Esca wouldn't be so brassed off.  
  
Marcus's forehead hits his desk. " You should quit."  
  
" You should start."  
  
Another wedge of silence. Marcus can't help the relieved smile. " Love you." _Sorry_.  
  
" ... Love you." Sincere, soft. _Sorry_. Then the disconnect signal buzzes in his ear. Esca has gone back to his once a week home-cooked meal at his best friend’s childhood home.   
  
Marcus remains where he is. The desk is rather comfortable this way.  
  
 **end**

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to everyone who reads, kudos' and comments!!!


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